Harry Potter & the Children of the Seeker's Stone
by Billy's Song
Summary: Enter enchantment, drama, laughs, romantic twists and turns and watch as Harry's 6th year is exposed to 3 students who will help Hogwarts learn that magic also begins with the pursuit of finding ourselves & hidden connection to strangers within our hearts
1. Chapter 1

**Harry Potter & **

**The Children of the Seeker's Stone**

Prologue – "The Romanian"

Location: Shores of Constanta, Romania

Time: Dusk, February 23, 1980

"This stone is legend," spoke a hoarse voice as it pierced the symphony of waves crashing against the mouth of a cave in darkness. A stout and balding man was the only figure the natural light of day seemed to reach, shrinking in fear from the cave's touch.

"One fit for an embodiment of fear and perfection, my Lord," the balding man replied to the voice valiantly, even though he kept eyeing the escape to the white powder of the beaches below every few seconds.

"Do you fear death, Julius?" the cold voice spoke to him once more, somehow inching further out of its cradle in the rock, so its face would come into view. The face, once revealed, was the most colorless and sleep deprived figure that Julius had ever seen. His face was as pale as virgin snow, his cheeks gaunt and lips as thin as thread. His eyes were narrow snake like slits that seemed to blink in and out of focus.

In the end, this mysterious man looked as though the joys of life had never come to him. Julius trembled as the other towered over him, his cloak sweeping gravel in his wake.

"I-I don't fear anything, m-my, Lord," Julius managed to squeak, disregarding the strong and commanding vocals of his heritage. The taller man began to laugh and cough at this statement in disbelief. A laugh that caused the stout man's flowing blood to chill in his veins.

"Such a bold statement for a man groveling rather than standing to face me," the other man drew a wand from his robes.

He pointed the tip at Julius's sweating forehead.

"Now, where is your present for me?" the taller man gently hissed as he tightened his grip on his wand. In trying to answer the question, Julius drove both of his hands into his robe pockets.

He held out a pale yellow stone no larger than his chubby palm.

"For you, L-Lord Volde—"

"You dare speak my name, Julius?" the Lord mocked playfully.

"I'm s-sorry," Julius forced out of him with the little strength he had. In doing so, the waves kissing the sides of the rock face seemed to mount like an audience in watching him, blowing fresh sea water onto his face.

The taller man snatched the yellow wonder before the sea touched Julius's arm. The threads of his lips kissed the tip of the stone.

"How long did it take for you to find this?" he asked, examining Julius's shivering stature.

"Exactly 4 months as of today, my Lord," he replied with a faint sense of dignity.

"I would imagine that a man like you would have to put his little pride aside to gain the information for its location," the taller man sneered.

Julius winced as he saw the wicked curl of his lips. This caused another thick sweat to break onto his face, remembering how he had threatened a group of young muggle archeologists and quickly murdered them in order to secure leaving with the stone undetected.

One of the muggles had been his 21 year old adopted son. The memory tortured him. He had silenced the rest of his son's life on a day when warm weather reminded him of his little Marcus's cheerful spirit. The image of Marcus's body falling before him at the mutter of the killing curse overwhelmed him with grief.

His next words were very hollow.

"I had to sacrifice everything."

"Lord Voldemort praises you for such a marvelous victory," he began, now grasping the stone tightly in his other hand.

"Yet-" at this word, Julius looked deeply into his lord's eyes, praying for some sign of relief.

"Yet, I will not tolerate to care for a man who has already served his purpose."

Julius dove for the ends of Voldemort's robes. He started to kiss them.

"Please, my Lord, I will do absolutely _anything_ to stay in your favor!" he screamed and sobbed like a piglet awaiting its death in the night.

"Anything."

Lord Voldemort stared hard at the sobbing Julius before him. His narrow and blood red eyes formed into snake like slits. The muscles of his mouth curved and he gave Julius a very warm and almost affectionate smile.

"Then die for me, Julius," he breathed into the night's air before clearly speaking in a heightened malice.

"_Avada_--!" he started.

"PLEASE DON'T, MY L—"

"_Kedavra_," Voldemort finished simply before the stout, balding little man fell to his knees like his son, and collapsed softly onto his face.

"Disgusting rodent."

At the utter of the word 'rodent,' the silence of the air had been broken with a sudden "Pop." A new even smaller man slightly hunched wearing an Earth battered traveling cloak walked hesitantly into view.

Voldemort dropped the stone into the man's outstretched hands.

"I wish for you to devastate a family with a newborn child," he spoke as the lips on the other man curved into a devious, animal fanged smile.

"Do not disappoint me."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1 – "Alfhild"

Location: Bristol, England

Time: 5:40 PM, March 22, 1980

"Welcome back to Britain's famous Wizarding Network! Brought kindly to you by information linked to us from your very own friends and of course our resourceful friends at the Ministry of Magic."

A female snorted quite loudly across the small living room in response to this description.

"Our resources report that today reels in another spectacular catch for auror Alastor Moody. Moody has finally captured Death Eater Igor Karkaroff, relieved our streets of yet another menace and sent it straight to Azkaban prison."

"Following this, this dedicated auror managed to apprehend fellow death eater Antonin Dolohov after a grueling 6 months of searching."

"We've also received news that our aurors at the Ministry are currently working to track down Death Eaters Rosier and Wilkes as we speak! Merlin, just a few more captures and we'll have them all hauled into Azkaban any day now."

The female placing her intake in the broadcast suddenly muttered a charm, and surrounded the man with a room full of floating hands applauding this feat.

After a few moments, the woman silenced the hands with a small, graceful gesture of her wand. They faded soon after.

The man tried to stifle a yawn with his fist before reading the rest of the day's report in front of him. "As for the births and deaths for March 22nd's friends and families here in England-"he sighed.

"I'm sad to report that we have lost yet another group of Wizarding families and their budding sons and daughters to the last gaggle of Death Eaters still out there" he cleared his throat before reading out the names that followed in respect.

"I ask for our listeners to bow their head or try to produce your fondest memory of the Asterwarts, the Dekilwaters, the Shanes, and the Vulcnaires."

He bowed his head to his own instruction, and continued.

"Each of these families has proved to be an incredible addition to this Wizarding community since as early as the 1800's. Yet, it is our dearest promise that they will always remain in our hearts as more than the magically departed."

He heard the woman blow her nose behind him. He tried to curb the mood with a lighter tone.

"However, we're proud to announce the arrival a few new borns into our midsts. After the Weaselys had given birth to their sixth, yes _sixth_ son Ronald on the first of this month, the Macmillans are delighted to inform us of the birth of their first son, Ernie."

"Next, the Noels are welcoming their second daughter Remora, the Larsons, their fourth son Armand, and the Harrigan newlyweds' first child, Paxima. Phew!" He didn't bother to hold back a laugh.

"Looks like our little Freya will have some new friends to play with!"

He paused for a few moments, covering the mouth of the mic with his hand, and quickly whispered to the woman.

"Alright Edith, your turn, darling! What's the next bit of new—"

He was startled to be cut off when Edith only shoved a piece of wrinkled parchment in his direction as a response.

"And today is a most unfortunate day for the magical community," came the faintest voice speaking into his microphone gravely as he read the sheet of parchment containing sudden news for the listeners of the Wireless Wizarding Network.

"You've got to speak louder, Archie!" she hissed with a slight Irish brogue looking disgruntled, very annoyed and took a few steps toward him. Her melancholy sounding accomplice only coughed, signaling her to keep her voice down.

"Around sundown this evening, we have been given knowledge that…this will be this network's final broadcast?" Archie looked taken aback, clearly shocked and channeled it while accidentally speaking into the microphone.

"Last broadcast? What kind of bloody rubbish is this?!"

Edith only lifted her wand, and caused the floating microphone to disappear from this mouth with a flick. The expression on her face had changed.

"One of the people that usually send us our information also sent that last piece of parchment as a part of our report," She paused for a moment, and sighed before continuing.

"They..they strongly suggested that we finish up our half hour by reading that sentence and immediately discontinuing..the broadcast," she finished, covering her eyes and trying to shield her reddening face of tears.

"Well, who in their right mind thinks that we're going to stop just because some fool sends us a piece of parchment with those instructions on it?" Archie got up off of his stool and walked over to her.

"Come on dearest, what type of reputation would this network receive if we laid down our jobs for some crack pot's fantasy?" He asked her softly, with a hint of humor in his voice to lighten the mood.

Edith found herself smiling at her fiancé's words and started to rummage through the pockets in her inner robes.

"They also sent something along with that parchment," she spoke, taking off her outer robe layer, and looking back up at him before continuing her search.

"What are you talking about, Edith? What did they send?"

"Those people sent some type of stone to us. And Merlin, did they seem relieved to have it off of their hands!" She exclaimed, shaking her head before finally placing a rugged stone into Archie's hand. It was hardly larger than his palm and was a pale yellowish color. Yet aside from its color, he also couldn't help but notice that the stone seemed to glitter with a force other than its physical structure.

He arched his brow.

"Is this supposed to be some type of weapon?" He asked her, clenching the stone with his hand, wanting to throw it aside before Edith cut in.

"The little man that gave it to us said that it'd be useful in giving us information about objects used in important stories, but to cut off the broadcast as soon as you read that sentence," she explained, feeling glad that she used a charm to remove the microphone.

"Oh how clever. And how would cutting off the network _help_ the people that deliver his radio news about the Wizarding world every afternoon?!" Archie shouted bitterly and shuddered at the prospect of giving up the network that he had dedicated his adult life to once out of the boundaries of Hogwarts. As his shout filled the room, a high pitched and equally agitated voice of a baby's cry joined it.

"Now look what you've done, Archie!" Edith snapped back at him, before hurrying into the bedroom beside them.

She was exhausted and running even the shortest distance didn't help her. Spending the majority of her day running around tracking the sources to broadcast and playing mother, rather than wife to her husband had taken a toll on her.

Yet after a long awaited birth the previous January, Edith Roselyn Alfhild had been introduced to the role of mother to her first daughter.

"Ssh now, Freya," Edith mouthed with her finger to her lips, leaning over her daughter's wooden cradle.

She gently moved a few strands of light autumn colored hair out of the child's face.

Freya's lips formed into a smile. She giggled as the strands tickled the sensitive spots on her face.

"You've got hair like your good old dad's," Edith mused happily, now playing with the hairs hiding Freya's soft scalp.

"—And getting older at that," She continued, lifting Freya upward.

She held her tightly in her arms.

After a few moments, Edith heard Arch walk into the room.

"What mushy thoughts have you piled into her head this time?" Her husband said sarcastically, rolling his eyes while approaching her.

"Oh, not that many I think."

"Not you, I'm talking about _her_," Arch said, poking Freya's bouncing belly.

Once he relieved the pressure, Freya hiccupped.

The small girl's eyes became as round as pearls after she felt the foreign sensation. Her father smiled at her as he placed an arm warmly around his new family.

"I think that this is true magic right here," Arch spoke as Edith rested her head onto his chest.

The moment reminded Arch that he had a particular present for the both of them.

"I want to dedicate the rest of my life to the both of you," he began, looking into her eyes and onto the ground before continuing. "-And I want to show you that I'm ready for that commitment. But, since I know that I'll never be as eloquent of a speaker as either of you—"

Edith fought a blush at these last few words.

"—Maybe this one gift will be better at saying how much I love you." He removed his comforting arm from around them and returned holding a delicately wrapped box and a smile.

Edith's cheeks glowed a deeper shade of pink and she wondered why he had grown nervous so suddenly. It wasn't like him to question himself. She gently set Freya back into her cradle and left the glittery package in her daughter's lap.

Edith hadn't even blinked before the tiny girl began to rip open the gift without any hesitation in excitement.

"Doesn't look as if she'll be one to wait for consent, now does she?" Arch said, happily watching Freya tear open the different wrappers of the package. Like his daughter, he was just as delighted as she was.

A moment later, she started to pound her little fists into the mattress and stared at the couple in disbelief. The torn paper had revealed a small, elegantly crafted metal box that was sealed with a lock of a small butterfly.

Arch leaned down into the cradle and whispered softly into her ear.

"Now, what happens when you follow a butterfly's wings?" He moved her hands into his and rested them onto the box's lock. He kissed her cheek and spoke into the metal keyhole.

"--You let go of your fears and your heart's mysteries are set free."

Freya's eyes widened as the box's lid opened, revealing a small and rotating carousel. As she watched the device, a trio of small circus animals slowly appeared onto the carousel's turning stage. The miniature bear, zebra, and elephant began to dance to the hum of a soft voice after a few moments:

_Keep your head hidden within the clouds _

_You'll never find your destiny built of strong sorrow and mirth _

_Hold fast to your dreams and walk through your life remembering-_

_That flowers first bloom from under the Earth _

Freya giggled and made small grabs for the animals as they began to fade. She was determined to such an extent where she actually tried to stand on her chubby legs, eventually falling right back onto them. This entertained her young parents watching her from above. Edith rested her arms on the side of the cradle.

She sighed. "She's the perfect blend of the both of us."

"Well, did you expect to pop out a goblin?" Arch asked, leaning behind her and nuzzling his head affectionately into her neck. Edith giggled with Freya's same happiness.

As he was going to mention how they shared a set of dimples, a shiver crept over her spine. "Hopefully you didn't leave the windows open tonight again."

"What are you on about? I'm sure I've locked them pretty tightly," Arch replied, moving his arms around her waist, and tried to relax her with the smooth curve of his lips against the back of her neck.

She shook her head. "I don't know. It just..doesn't it just feel cold to you all of a sudden?"

Arch's eye lids opened a fraction or two once he began to feel a sensation similar to his fiancé's tickle his skin. But, this cold felt foreign to the temperature around them.

It made him uneasy.

As he spoke, he saw Freya's dark blue eyes watch him below with a deep and wordless expression.

"Who was the man that gave you that package, darling?"

Edith hesitated before responding. "It was April McMullen. He's been one of my most reliable news resources over the last few months. I'm sure that you've met him?"

"April, April..Hmm. You know what? I have an old image of him in my head," He rested his stubbly chin on her shoulder. "He's sort of small, has thick patches of blonde hair missing on his head and..looks a bit like a rat, I think?"

Edith shrugged. "Well, it's good that you remember. But, that still doesn't explain this chill in the air right—" She trailed off as she quickly picked up Freya out of her cradle in alarm.

"Arch, can you get that stone out of your pocket, for me?" Edith asked, wrapping Freya in a tight bundle in her robes. Arch arched his brow, fumbled around in his pocket, and pulled out the yellow stone no larger than his palm.

He stared at it for a few moments while he stretched his arm out to her. He wondered why a small and brownish coloured cloud seemed to move across its surface. He blinked and figured that it must have been his imagination.

"I don't think that we should keep this, Archie," she said with a worried look on her face. Freya continued to focus on her father. She sucked her thumb as her eyes bore into the similar mysterious and twinkling depths of his own.

He walked closer to her and peered into them for a little longer. He watched a figure hunch from around the bedroom door's corner. The figure lifted a beaming tip of a wand out of his nest in shadow. The visitor began to mumble a spell under his breath.

"MOVE!" Arch jerked out of relaxation and roughly pushed Edith and Freya out of the way as a sharp bullet of light shot in their direction. The spell had managed to singe the material on his left shoulder as the family fell to the ground from the impact. Arch looked over their bodies to see if they were unscathed. Edith looked more afraid than he had ever seen her.

"What-What in the--?!" She clutched Freya even closer to her chest. Arch grit his teeth and grabbed his wand from out of his back pocket. Yet as soon as he had settled on a spell to fire, another shot came from the other side of the room.

"Contego Maxima!" He yelled as a storm of ignited darts flew at them. He was lucky enough to conjure a shield a few inches larger than where they hit. Through the shield's transparency, the couple saw the hunched figure point a shivering wand at them.

"Don't make me do it again!" the man yelled threateningly as his wand began to erupt with neon sparks. Arch gripped the handle of his wand a bit tighter. He couldn't believe that any of this was happening. What bothered him most was the fact that he allowed for a coward to attack him; a person that couldn't even stand tall and introduce his conflict before disarming his opponent.

Arch held his wand firmly in front of him. "It'd be a lot better on your end if you could at least come out of the shadows."

Edith grabbed his free arm. Her voice was calm, yet assertive. "You don't have to do this, Archie. I know that he's practically out to murder us, but...that doesn't mean that we have to do the same."

Arch bit his lip as the shield's protection began to slowly fade and his head swam into conflict with these words. _Why was it now that she wanted to be compassionate? _"I can't let him go, Edith. Sorry if it'll take you awhile to forgive me, but I'm not going to risk losing Freya's future."

"-The future that we're going to build together."

Before Edith rose to her feet, she lost her balance when another serving of hexes tried to penetrate Arch's defense. "It's you that he wants," the crouched man sneered and lifted himself into a standing position. He pointed a chubby and long nailed finger at the family with his free hand. His sneer transformed into a twisted smile. "This is the only way that I can receive recognition!"

"There's no way that I'm going to let you—" Arch began before a hot and brilliant white light flashed into his eyes. After the light vanished, the shield broke and his body went crashing into the bedroom wall. He tried to rise, but found that his body was being held down by an enormous pressure. He fought against the bind again and let out a loud and terrible groan as his limbs wrenched in pain from the impact.

Edith screamed as the imposter began to walk silently toward where her body was left mangled in the destruction. Her eyes swelled with frustrated tears as she tried to hold a quivering wand out to protect her husband and the sleeping daughter against her arm.

She stammered with tears running down her face. "Get b-back you bastard, I swear that I'll k-kill you where you stand!"

To her mingled fear and amazement, Edith watched as the man standing over her began to sputter equally warm tears of his own. He buried his hand in his face as the other met her wand in the air. The tip lit with a growing beam.

He started to talk to himself. "I c-can't d-do this. No. I won't. I don't w-want to murder anyone," he paused as an innocent smile formed onto his lips _"Sirius and James said that they'd leave me to Remus during the next moon if I did anything this stupid again…they would never want me to murder anyone." _

"Avada _Kedavra_," whispered a hollowed voice as a figure materialized behind the man, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. The bedroom was bathed in a soft and soothing emerald green light. Freya stirred in her sleep as the light danced in front of her eyelids.

A moment later, a body fell to the ground with a heavy and cryless thud. One of Freya's blue eyes opened slightly once the sound met her ears.

"It's such a beautiful sensation when you feel that your soul has met the edge of its time," the man replied affectionately behind his smaller disciple below him. The man who had introduced himself as April McMullen fell to his knees. His tears grew into strangled sobs.

"Bring me the child, Wormtail."

Wormtail's muscles clenched in fear as he felt his master's eyes on him as he moved toward Freya; now wide awake. The little girl watched as he picked her up with gentle hands and carried her over to a much taller, skeletal looking man. Her eyes began to water as he pressed the cold tip of a wand into her chest.

Lord Voldemort added a significant amount of pressure to where her heart beat steadily. "You have failed your first impression miserably, _Peter_." Voldemort said clearly irritated, without looking at the groveling rat.

"However," his voice was no louder than a whisper. "There may be some pitiful hope for you." Wormtail stared up at him, his tearing irises bulging.

"Master—"

"Do you remember the incantation I taught you?"

The rat squirmed as if the question was something sinister feeding into his skin. He dropped his wand and brought both of his clammy hands to his face. Wormtail began to scratch at his cheeks and rocked back and forth, terrified to respond.

Lord Voldemort's free hand found the shuddering head of his disciple meet his fingertips. In a single breath, Voldemort drove his nails sharply into the man's balding scalp. He played with Wormtail's bleeding skin.

"Now, now, Peter. Is this any way to pledge your allegiance to me?" His words slowly drained the little hope that Wormtail kept locked away in his heart. They also caused Wormtail to stop rocking and pick up his wand with a shaking hand. His face was flushed and drenched in a combination of fear and sweat.

"_Subpono res ut-"_ His voice was audible, but faint as Freya whimpered when he joined his master and dug his wand into her chest.

"_-a somes" _As the final syllable eased from his lips, the air was filled with a sharp and ear wrenching scream from below them. Freya's tickled pink skin began to pulsate before gently ripping a part a few inches. Her torn layers of skin curled onto opposite sides of her chest and revealed a rose red, veined, and rapidly beating heart within her.

From across the bedroom, Arch's eyes flickered back into focus. The man had gradually returned into consciousness, again wincing in pain as he tried to use his strength to pick himself up off of the ground. The cries of his child had moved him out of his slumber in the darkness. Even through his pain, his eyes settled on the horrific images of his wife's lifeless body to Freya writhing in blood a few feet in front of him.

Arch couldn't speak. He couldn't scream.

The images faded and his mind twisted with rage. He grabbed for the side of the wall and tried to channel his small strength into moving his body forward once his feet were planted on the ground. His insides were aching, but it was Freya's pain that only mattered at this point.

Lord Voldemort smiled as he watched the helpless man struggle to cross to his side of the room. "Give me the stone, Wormtail."

Wormtail was mortified, but picked up the gleaming yellow stone from the carpet floor and hesitantly placed it into his master's hands. The dark wizard kissed the tip of the stone before leaning down and holding it over Freya's open chest.

"To forge an object to a body," He whispered gently, moving a few auburn strands of Freya's hair out of her face. In this same instant, Arch hurled himself at Wormtail and Voldemort over a five foot gap between them.

"IMPEDIMEN—"

"You are a fool," Voldemort hissed as the smoke of a crimson snake blossomed out of the tip of his wand before Arch could cast his spell. The snake bore its fangs and lunged itself into Arch's abdomen, slithering up until it reached his chest.

Arch fell onto the floor again a few moments later. His body cringed and jerked into different directions, before his madness subsided and he eased again into unconsciousness. There was no certainty that he was dead, nor alive.

Voldemort's smile broadened as he watched his disciple try to shield his eyes with shaking hands. "You have seen what your fate will bring you if you ever think to rise against me, Peter," he fought a chuckle before returning his attention to the victim below him. He brushed his fingers against the rough sides of the stone while holding it in mid air.

"Your fate will now be altered," Voldemort moved his fingers closer to the slowing beat of Freya's heart.

"_You are no longer the child of a family touched by happiness._

_You are no longer the daughter of a world that sleeps within protected means._

_You are now the daughter of a world that a new fear has created. _

_You belong to a bind that will allow for my soul to feed and roam-_

_You are not only human. You are a child of the Seeker's Stone." _

Once he finished his incantation, his fingers placed the stone onto the glowing organ. The veins surrounding her heart snaked around the object and nestled it in their center.

The room was bathed in a familiar emerald glow before subsiding into a cold, breathless temperature; A perfect aesthetic to the warmth that graced it but a few hours ago.

A few moments later, 3 month old Freya awakened to the foreign sensation of a deep, magic bound scar etched into her chest. Her eyes widened in surprise and she turned her head.

From a few feet away, a pair of familiar mysterious and twinkling blue depths began to blink in and out of focus from her own.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2 - "Twisted Quale"

Location – Nottingham, England

Time – 11: 15 AM, April 20, 1980

A row of spring kissed tulips lining a window's shelf bowed their heads in shame as a heavily cloaked figure fell to its knees in front of a half winged arm chair. The figure ripped its hands from its sides and brought them to a shaking praying position. The fingers of its hands were not only pale, but were marred and misshapen. They gave the impression that they'd seen a world where only war could bestow.

"Please, I_ beg _of you," its voice shook in a quiet agony as it brought both of its prayer clasped hands closer to the arm chair. It stretched its arms to such an extent that the black hood covering its head fell to its shoulders. This hood revealed a thinning face lined with age, a mouth whose lips were nowhere to be seen, and darkening shadows under a pair of bulging eyes that stared hungrily in front of them.

It was a man.

The winged arm chair stood in front of a small and flickering fireplace. Despite its size, it roared and eased smoke into the air around it. Another man was lounging in his seat and faced away from the lap dog that was staining the tile beneath his feet. In his lap sat another figure. He nurtured a small and gently hissing snake with the tip of his finger.

"You sicken me with your excuse as a human being," Lord Voldemort spoke in a hushed and malignant tone. The man behind him forced his entire abdomen and both of his arms onto the ground in mercy. He pressed his skull painfully into the delicately etched tile.

"You know that I've given it all of my power to—"

"Your power? Do you have any grasp on that definition?" Voldemort teased the groveling man with these words as the snake rose its head above its master's knees. Her scarlet eyes fixed upon the puddle of a man whose spirit had begun to diminish behind his eyes.

"After all that I've sacrificed, my power has surpassed all expectations." The man on the floor sneered and moved one of his hands into his back pocket. He stroked the sleek handle of his wand and allowed a morbid fantasy to walk into his mind. He became seduced with the image of Voldemort's blood splashing against the rows of tulips behind him. If he used the blood sought by thousands to water an innocent flower; this would make him famous.

The colors dancing in the fireplace began to intensify. The man settled his eyes on his adversary as he drew out his wand. At the same time, the snake began to coil around Voldemort's forearm.

"_Traitor." _

The man's face distorted into a twisted smile as he straightened his body into a standing position. He brandished his wand at the Lord sitting comfortably in his chair.

"You act as nothing more than a swine before me, Quale," Voldemort rewarded him with an amused and thin smile of his own. Yet, these words didn't have that impact on Quale. Quite to the contrary, they only caused him to take a step back with his wand swaying slightly in front of him. Quale sputtered.

"You dare mock me when you only have a _snake_ to protect yourself!"

Lord Voldemort cocked his head to the side and grinned at the man as though he was a delicious feast.

"Are you certain that a snake can offer me no protection?" The snake in question uncoiled itself and slithered up his sleeve, and found itself pulsing around its master's neck. It whispered a single word into his ear that only a parselmouth could comprehend.

"_Feed me." _

Quale felt his skin glisten with a thickening sheet of sweat. His eye twitched in reaction from the pain of holding his arm in front of him. He couldn't even breathe the incantation of the simplest of spells. His mind began to run in frantic circles. Should he run or should he stand and fight the very being that's carved fear into the families around him? The widowed man thought that all thoughts were destined to be futile. Yet, the anxiety prompted a last attempt at survival.

"Before you murder this pitiful life, I have an interesting bit of information to give you, my Lord."

Lord Voldemort's irises flickered with a hint of curiosity. To the emancipated Riddle, this man was nothing more than an animal crying for mercy before its slaughter. The portrayal brought a faint memory from his experiences at the orphanage to light. He remembered how he watched two muggle boys harking with laughter before stoning and skinning a stray canine. The dog's whining in their shadows reminded him of this Death Eater's cries for help within the darkness.

"There's a newly wed Wizarding family a few miles away from here, my Lord."

Voldemort's temper rose as quickly as the flames behind him. Again, the dog fought to keep his life bound to how loudly he whined in his corner.

"I would reward you with a _bone_ for your efforts, Quale. But, I dare say that my followers would be much more grateful."

Quale's nerves resurfaced at these words.

"But wait! This family may prove to be interesting to you." A hiccup fought to escape from his throat as he watched his master grip the arm of his chair in frustration. A twitch flowered along the back of his spine.

"They have _dared _to deny the most sacred rule of magic –"

Lord Voldemort's body stiffened as his next reaction rode on Quale's next few words.

"A pure blood witch has mated and produced a child with a male muggle, my Lord."

As these last few words dwindled amongst the both of them, the air was filled with a sudden and disturbing cackle of female laughter. Quale felt his bottom hit hard on the tile beneath him as he watched as a new silhouette form against the doorway.

"Allow me to take this honor and rip the creepy crawling vermin off of the Earth, my master," the silhouette stepped forward and dropped its body into a formal bow. When she lifted her head, Thaddeus Quale's heart wrenched with horror.

The crooked and sadistic face of Bellatrix Lestrange smiled at the cowering man as she feasted on a pair of a butterfly's wings fluttering between her lips.


End file.
